


Rhapsodia

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Pining, Underage Drinking, but as a lesbian and a bisexual, featuring: the exact same idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-10-16 23:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: What do you do when you try to confront your decade long crush? Start an argument that makes you realise that you are both absolutely useless at managing your emotions.--Ren rubbed at her eyes. The yellow light stung. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.“No. You’re too sweet. You’ll be chewed up and spat out because you don’t have the guts to say what you mean.”"Yeah, like you do."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nereidlilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereidlilies/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since this is something to commemorate the anniversary of my Significant Annoyance and me learning of each others existences (which is on the 20th), i thought i might as well dedicate the first part of this celebration to the reason it happened which is this god forsakened fandom that killed my crops and stole my cattle
> 
> today a year ago i posted my first fic in this fandom (The Order of the Universe) and holy shit has much changed since then
> 
> (if anyone wants me to adjust the tags, please feel free to ask)

The screen is washed by red and black fuzz, pulsating frame after frame. The same sequence plays out. The fuzzy little stars wobble.

“I don’t see it.”

“Then—Then play it again!”

Rewind. Play.

“I should be toward the left!” Mitaka splutters on the other end of the line.

Hux squints one last time, holding her glasses close to her eyes. Nothing.

“I’m sorry, Dopheld,” she sighs, “but there is no light variation.” She closes the laptop. “I understand you are excited about this new position, but please don’t expect to find an exoplanet within your first week.”

The stutters start up again. Hux unplugs her laptop and drops her glasses on top of it. She stands from the couch and politely listens through Mitaka’s excuses.

“Look,” Hux tells him. “It’s five o’clock on a Saturday evening, I’m—”

“No, no, no, no. _Ma’am_. Hux—”

The sound of the doorbell rings out like a blessing, drowning Mitaka’s voice in its church bell cheer.

“I’m afraid I have to go!” Hux quickly speaks over Mitaka’s stuttering. “We can discuss this on Monday.”

Hux hangs up the phone and throws it down onto the couch.

The intervals between each ring shorten as Hux marches through the open plan apartment. She scoops up the house keys off a cabinet that is topped with a vase of wilted white lilies and unlocks the door.

Looking through the open gap, Hux goes to speak, but she can't make a sound.

Out on the landing, there is woman dressed in a leather jacket and fishnets under a pair of torn high waisted shorts. Her face is partially disguised by a straw fedora and round black sunglasses. She is holding a pink stroller. An _occupied_ pink stroller.

“No,” says Hux and moves to close the door, but a thick scuffed boot jams into cinching gap.

“Open up, gingerbread! I’ve come bearing gifts!”

“Fuck off!” Hux yells.

“Not fucking today!”

Slowly, Hux pries the door open, and, this time, the stroller hauling woman does not wait to barge inside.

“If the gifts came from between your legs, I don’t give a shit, Ren!” Hux shouts after the woman who charges through her apartment toward the corner of the kitchen. She is like a black grease stain on a canvas of white.

“No. They actually came from a very lovely man from your local liquor store.”

Hux walks into the kitchen as Ren pulls back the cover of the stroller and unwraps the swaddling blankets from around a bottle of Patron, two Russian Standards and a crate of beer. They are lined up on the white marble counter.

“Don’t worry, babe, I won’t be asking for child support,” Ren tuts and throws aside the ratty fedora. “I don’t want any of your geek-ass money anyway.” Turning, she looks down at Hux over the frames of her sunglasses from the height of her six foot three body and heeled boots. Ren cringes. “The fuck are you _wearing_?”

Straightening the NASA logo print t-shirt, Hux says, “My work pyjamas.” The pants are too short and pull to mid-calf when she sits.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ren whispers and reaches for the bottle of tequila. Cracking the cap, she takes a heavy swallow. Her burgundy lipstick smudges on the rim.

“Besides.” Hux steps forward, arms folded. “You can’t complain about my state when you come here with—With _this_.” She gestures to the stroller.

Ren takes another swallow of tequila. “My arms got tired so I took it out of someone’s garbage. The fedora too. Oh, and—” She takes the baby blanket and throws it at Hux.

The blanket is clumped with unidentifiable globs of food and smudges of biro, but it unravels in Hux’s hand and she recognises it as her own scarf.

“Promised you I would give it back.” Ren smirks around the rim of the bottle.

Hux throws the scarf onto the kitchen floor. “That was in _December_.”

“Yeah? And?”

“It’s _June_.”

“So?” Ren shrugs. “Now, come on, babe.” She takes Hux by the shoulders and urges her toward the unopened bottles. “You need a drink.”

 

 

 

_Nine years ago_

 

Light dripped golden through the gaps between the steps of the bleachers. It caught on the cup of Ren’s red slushie where the bubbles rose between the chunks of ice as she pressed her thumb on the plastic. She swirled the black straw, stirring the pale ice.

Torn bags of mini pretzels and pick-‘n-mix lied on the grass, several dolphin gummies thrown into the dirt. Hux, leaning back against a metal post holding the bleachers, chewed slowly through the pretzels between drags of her cigarette.

Ren knew that behind the sunglasses Hux’s eyes were red because she hadn’t slept or been home in two days. But her hair was still perfect: parted like a knife cut, straight as copper wire, the edge above her shoulder severe.

Hux asked Ren to skip the second half of the school day with her. She didn’t have to do much to convince Ren. They went out of the school grounds and Hux bought them slushies and snacks.

Ren felt larger than life when she got into the passenger seat of Hux’s car, slurping the cherry red slushie like her life depended on it. Afterwards, they snuck back onto school grounds and hid under the bleachers. Sitting there in the cool summer shade, Ren felt giddy - like a power burst waiting to fry a circuit.

The weird fizzing, electric feeling has been in Ren's gut ever since Hux pulled her over to her table at lunch on the first day of high school. Even though Hux’s friends were around her, she payed attention to _Ren_ and spoke to _her_. (Hux asked Ren about the individual keychains on her overloaded backpack, thumbing through each of them. Once lunch was over, she explained that she saw a group of senior boys looking at Ren the wrong way and she didn’t want to find out how it would end.)

As they sat on the grass under the bleachers, chewing through bags of candy, summer returned and its sticky hand was linked with school’s end. Ren was soon going to be a sophomore and Hux was due to graduate.

“You know, if you aren’t going to turn up to your classes, they won’t let you go to prom,” Ren spoke around the straw of her slushie while reaching for a gummy worm.

Hux blew out blue smoke and smirked. “I don’t care about prom. I care about my grades and I’m still at the top of every score board. I’m not stupid.”

Ren chewed on the end of the worm, the jelly melting on her tongue. “I’m not saying you are.”

“You sure? Because it sounds like you’re getting smart with me.” Hux kicked Ren’s bent knee, almost toppling her to the ground.

“Fuck off!” Ren threw the half eaten gummy worm at Hux. She dodged it, laughing.

“You little brat!” Hux crumpled her cigarette into the dirt. “I know exactly what you’re trying to say.” She reclined against the post, arms folded behind her head. “ _’But Amelia Hux’_!” she exclaimed, straining her voice. “’You won’t pass any of your exams! You’re just a fake know-it-all! _Blah Blah blah’_!” Hux laughed. “You just care too much, baby face.”

Ren said nothing. She sat there, red as her slushie.

Hux’s smirk pulled wider. “C’mere,” she gestured with a prettily painted fingernail. “Since you’re so goddamn mature—” Hux took the cup of melting ice from Ren and placed in on the ground. She reached into her own bag and, from between the stuffed files, pulled out a clear glass bottle.

Ren blanched. “You’re not meant to have that!” she hissed, like there is somebody around the empty football pitch to hear them.

“Yeah? Says who?” Hux opened the bottle and poured the vodka into her own blue slushie, letting the acrid rivulets run down the plastic.

“The _law_?”

“Screw the law. I deserve a drink.” Once Hux’s slushie cup was almost full again, she looked up at Ren and smiled.

Ren shrugged.

After a moment, she was handed back her significantly more melted slushie. Ren took a shallow swallow and grimaced. Hux removed the lid of her own drink and gulped.

They kept drinking, numbly talking, until Ren’s body felt mellow and the summer sun kissed the horizon. Ren watched Hux light another cigarette from her emptying pack and exhale a cloud of dancing smoke in the hot air. Hux looked off somewhere to the side where the birds picked at the pitch. The last bell was due.

Reaching to pull up a bag of candy, Hux noticed Ren staring. She showed her teeth in a sloppy grin and held up the cigarette. “Want a taste?” she asked.

 

 

 

 

Ren dances through the apartment as the chorus of ‘Maneater’ starts to play again. Her toes peek through the gaps of her fishnets and her wild hair catches on the frames of her sunglasses. There are two over spilling glasses of cola in her hands.

Hux is stood beside window of the main living space, fidgeting with her phone. Glancing up, she sees Ren and tries to discretely slip the phone into the pocket of her pyjama pants.

“No, no, no—!” Ren shouts as she barges into Hux. Drinks spill onto the floor. “It’s _us_ time. Your nerd friends can _fuck off_!”

“It’s work related,” mutters Hux even as she is elbowed onto the couch beside the laptop that plays Ren’s choice of song.

“I don’t give a shit.” Ren shoves a glass into Hux’s hand and starts to wobble about in a dance beside the couch as she slurps her drink over the rim.

Hux watches the bubbles pop against the chilled glass. She looks up at Ren as she trips over her own feet and takes a swallow of the cherry cola. Hux chokes the moment the liquid hits the back of her throat.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” Hux rasps.

Ren turns, feet slipping on the glossy wooden floors. “Vodka and all your cherry coke.” She throws aside her sunglasses. “I didn’t come for a kids party.”

Hux grunts and put her lips back on the rim. Pulling her feet under herself,  she lets Ren have the floor.

Gradually, the room crowds with empty cans and opened bottles that were snatched from the backs of Hux’s cabinets.

Half falling, half tripping, Ren comes stumbling to the couch. She catches herself on an armrest and grabs for Hux’s arm. “C’mon—!” she slurs past her heavy tongue, pulling at Hux. “Fuckin’ dance with me.”

Hux doesn’t think she could stand; her body is weighing her down with guilt, pinning her to the couch. Hux shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn’t be getting drunk. She has responsibilities. Her behaviour is not excusable.

Hux is yanked to her feet. “No,” she moans. “I—” Her lips are interrupted by the glass rim of a bottle. She chokes on tequila.

“Don’t tell me y’got work tom’rrow,” Ren slurs, herding Hux into the centre of the room. “I know tomorrow ‘s Sunday. ‘Am not stupid.”

Hux pulls away, squirming from under Ren’s hands.

“No, babe—!” Ren cries out.

Hux turns to walk away but Ren grabs her from behind, her thick arms squeezing around the skinny ribcage.

“Come on, please— We never see each other, I miss you—” Ren drops her head onto Hux’s shoulder and squeeze the air out of her. “Fuck. I miss you so much.”

“No—Ren—” Hux tries to yanks herself away from Ren, but clammy hands follow her. “Please, just—Let go!”

They struggle, squirming pathetically in a conflict of intentions. Hux falls back onto the couch and Ren traps her with the broad cage of her arms.

“I never even get to see you,” Ren whimpers, tugging Hux by her wrists – trying to stop her escape. “All you fuckin’ do is _work_!”

Hux bares her teeth and kicks Ren aside before scrambling up from the couch and running to put distance between them.

“Why are you no fun anymore!” Ren yells after Hux from the floor where she fell. “What the fuck happened to you? Why is your bullshit work so important?”

Hux turns to her, breathing hard and flushed. “Because, Ren, unlike some, I grew up and _changed_.”

Ren watches her with watery eyes.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” Hux tells her, voice rising, “but this isn’t high school anymore. We can’t all be teenage idiots forever!”

Ren whimpers, like a sad tearful dog, and stands, her drunk tangle of legs slowing her. She reaches toward Hux, tripping on her feet, but she flinches back.

“I’ve changed, Ren,” Hux says, her face burning. “It’s not my fault _some_ people can’t make anything of themselves.”

“No, no, that’s not—” Ren wavers, still reaching for Hux.

“ _You_ just can’t _grow the fuck up,_ " Hux screams over her, "and because of that you try to drag me down _with you_.”

Ren falters and sobs, pulling at her hair in fistfuls as she tries to hide her pathetic red face. “No, no—! Shut up!”

Hux bares her teeth and refuses to back away. “You will not drag me into your bullshit because you can’t get over yourself, you pretentious little bitch!”

“ _Shut up!_ ” Ren grabs Hux’s wrists and shoves her back - making Hux briefly loose her balance as she lurches. Ren follows her, lips are bent in a scowl and eyes rimmed with dripping black. “You think you can throw your issues on me, huh? Fucking daddy’s girl, little Amelia Hux. You don’t even have a mind of your own!”

Hux’s skin burns, from her hairline to her neck. She feels the hot flush of tears in her eyes. “Fucking slut!” Hux strikes Ren’s face, only catching her jaw. “You fucking whore! Worthless bitch! I _hate you!_ ”

Ren stares at Hux, hands fixed at her sides even as her cheek pulses red. A breath stutters through her heaving chest like she is trying to urge back the tears that are dripping from her pink eyes.

“You’re goddamn stupid, you know that?” Ren whispers and charges past Hux, clipping her on the shoulder.

Objects are flung after Ren as she snatches up her jacket off the floor, throws it on her shoulders and takes her boots without pulling them on. She runs out of the door of Hux’s apartment, bare feet in torn fishnets slipping down the steps.

 

 

 

 

Ren looked between the smoking cigarette and Hux. Those smirking eyes watched her behind the obscuring black sunglasses. Ren could see the red residue from the lipstick Hux smeared on that morning clinging to the flaking skin of her cracked lips.

Once, Hux was everything Ren wanted to be, but she became everything Ren wanted to feel. She knows that she will miss Hux, miss the feeling of being with her.

“Go on,” Hux laughed, urging Ren to take the cigarette.

Ren bit her lip and took it.

She liked the smell of smoke, especially when it stained her clothes from being beside Hux. Ren pressed the cigarette between her lips and took a deep inhale. She choked.

Hux laughed over Ren’s wheezing as her face became red and eyes watered.

“Here, kid, fucking hell,” Hux said, passing the cup of melted slushie to Ren. She gulped it down as the cigarette stub smoked in the grass. “What is this cruel world going to do to you when I’m out of here.”

Ren rubbed her eyes. The yellow light stung. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.

“No. You’re too sweet. You’ll be chewed up and spat out because you don’t have the guts to say what you mean.”

“Yeah, like you do.”

Moments passed, Hux didn’t speak.

“Will you go to your graduation?” Ren asked.

Hux shrugged. “I guess. It’s what my dad wants.” She took off her sunglasses and folded them. Even makeup couldn’t hide the purple wells under her eyes.

“Since when do you do what your dad tells you?”

“People do grow up, you know, and realise that you can’t always be right.”

Ren frowned. Her words ran out into the wild before she could catch them: “Your dad is a fucking sadist.”

Hux stared at her. “Yeah?” she laughed, hoarse. “That’s what he says about me.” She grinned. “I’m a sadist. A fucking mistake of a daughter.”

 

 

It’s Monday evening and the clocks are running past seven. Hux is home early today. She stares at the stacks of packed takeaway boxes inside the fridge, wrapped and taped in the plastic white bags they were delivered in. She feels too sick to eat.

The fridge sounds a slap as it closes. Hux tips forward and thumps her forehead on the cool plastic. She is still in her work uniform: a white shirt under a blazer, plain black jeans and comfortable leather shoes. She never saw the point of wearing heels all day if they just hurt your feet; the layout of NASA quarters is unforgiving.

Hux’s phone buzzes in her pocket as message after message from Mitaka arrive. He has been following her from morning till evening, from office to meeting and back. As his superior, Hux felt the obligation to be patient and listen. But this doesn’t extend to her personal time.

The phone buzzes again. Hux thinks about dinner. She won’t be able to eat until she replaces the memory of Ren running from her apartment, crying. That stupid kid.

That Saturday, Hux was sober by the time the clocks touched ten. She had sat with her back to the front door, tapping her phone every time it started to dim on Ren’s number. She stayed like that until the city street under her apartment building became grey and brown. She cleared her sore eyes at four in the morning and slept on the couch, the phone on the floor – screen burning.

On Monday, Hux got up at five, dressed, and drove to work. For the time she was there, the events of the weekend never breached her mind. She tolerated Mitaka, spoke respectfully to her superiors, remained awake during meetings.

Hux is a diligent worker, her personal life is secondary.

Her _life_ is secondary.

Just an afterthought.

Hux slams her fist into the ice dispenser. The ice chips slip across the floor as she shakes off her hand.

 

The last of the neighbours haul in home, bringing loose bags of groceries through the door as Hux slips past them down the staircase from her top floor apartment.

There is a chill in the summer air when Hux steps out onto the street. She walks past her car, pushing into the evening crowds as she leaves for the city in a flagged down taxi.

The car fleets through crowded boulevards, past the shopping districts and tourist routes, past the foreign supermarkets nestled into the first floors and alt-fashion stores luring up the staircases. Out on the sidewalk, watching the neon signs of nail bars buzz off, Hux almost misses it – the garish “hello” of the tattoo studio.

The door is open and the tin steps glow under the strips of fluorescent blue lights that line the ceiling of the staircase. Hux sees the light of the second floor. She knows Ren will still be inside.

Taking the railing, she steps over the border of the doorframe and the tin under her feet rings as she follows the band stickers that cover the puckered metal. Hux can hear the rattle of music from the speakers (metal? Death metal? It always sounded the same to her).

The studio, Order of Knights, was opened after Ren had quit her dead-end job that was just another link in a chain of dead-end jobs. She used all her saved money to refurbish the studio space with her like-minded housemates.

Hux wasn’t there; they spent years apart at the opposite ends of the country. But she got the photo updates (the rat shit that Ren found in the walls, the vintage porn stash Jemal pulled from under the floorboards, the teenagers that decided to hook up in the “abandoned” building and Gage ended up chasing out).

Hux wasn’t there. She had work. Off somewhere in an office with closed windows mid-summer, watching the second hand pace on the clock above the projector screen.

She had work. She always had work.

It was always that, wasn’t it.

Work.

“Yeah, come by this Thursday.”

Hux steps onto the landing.

“It will be great to get back to working on your peace.”

The ceiling of the studio is a kaleidoscope of bare bulbs. Some dim, some broken, others glowing with the gold of a burning coil. Where wires doesn’t hang from the ceiling, there are torn t-shirts, flags, lanyards with rusted keys, expired ID cards, beads, ribbons. There is junk up there that was fished from Hux’s pockets. It’s been long lost among the new memories.

“Sure, don’t worry about it. Mhm. Alright.”

There are framed posters on the walls, autographs, artwork with dates scratched into the corners, photographs and certificates in glittery frames – there are names Hux doesn’t recognise.

“I’ll see you then. Yeah. You too. Have a good evening.”

Laminated catalogues are mounted on stands with warning notices and pricing lists above them. There is a desk, pasted with stickers and pinned flyers, that holds old folders and books. A slim laptop buzzes on a stacked bulk of papers as a phone drops back down beside it.

Leaning across the desk from a high bar stool, Ren types on the laptop. She is wearing the tattoo studio’s brand t-shirt and a pair of red tinted round glasses. Her deep red lipstick shines under the bare bulbs as she licks her teeth.

Ren, Hux realises, looks like the girls she used to kiss at house parties. Those meth heads with bad needle poked tattoos and a sour taste on their tongues. She used to kiss them back when she was just like them, angry just to make her dad angry.

But Ren isn’t those girls; she was a sweet kid— _Is_ a sweet kid – who was worried about what her mom and dad would think because she loves them. Despite what people think, Ren wasn’t a case of teenage rebellion; the rebellion came after.

Hux used to wonder if this started because of her and the clothes she gave to Ren because she didn’t need them anymore. The clothes Ren used to wear out to clubs and parties, the short skirts and tight t-shirts in which she picked up guys and girls.

Hux bites on her tongue when she walks into the edge of a catalogue stand. It rattles and knocks against the wall. Hux turns to Ren. She hasn’t look up – occupied by unsorted folders.

“Ren?” Hux tries.

Ren stops, hands full of papers. She doesn’t look at Hux, but her sad red lips say enough.

“Ren?” Hux repeats.

“Yes?” She drops the papers onto the desk.

“Hey.” Hux makes a step forward. “I, um— How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Ren flicks aside a folder and drags a notebook up toward her. “Closing up for tonight.” She opens it and grabs an old biro. “Did you want something?” Ren asks, writing.

Is this how Ren felt as a freshman when she tried to speak to Hux?

“No, no. Just—” Hux tries to shove her hands into the pockets of her jeans but they are too small and instead she crosses her arms. She finds Ren watching her and flusters. “I just, you know, wanted to see you. See how’s work— Hey,” she says, looking at the walls. “Where is that school picture you kept—”

“I took it down. We needed space,” Ren interjects. She drops the pen and notebook. “Cut the bullshit, Hux,” she says. “You never turn up just to see ‘how’s work’. What do you want?”

Hux bites her tongue and looks to the side. She can’t falter much longer. She speaks, “I wanted to apologise, about— About Saturday.”

Ren sits straighter, but says nothing.

“I am sorry,” Hux continues, “about what I told you, but I—”

“But you didn’t mean it.” Ren picks up the notebook and pen and starts to scratch in a date. “You didn’t mean it, but you said it,” she concludes without looking at Hux. “And I heard it.” She closes the book with the snap of elastic. “Now, what do you want?”

Hux looks at Ren, at her stupid long hair that everyone thinks is box-dyed black, at her soft lips that she likes to plaster red, the drooping neckline of her oversized t-shirt that shows the straps of her bra. Hux looks at her furious eyes.

“Can we talk, please?” she asks.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 4/20...... y'all kno what that means. IT'S THE ANNIVERSARY OF ME AND MY SIGNIFICANT ANNOYANCE DECIDING THAT WE HATE EACH OTHERS GUTS!!!! HAPPY 1 YEAR ISA U SPLENDID DIPSHIT!! but honestly, this is dedicated to the idiot that makes existing worth it. i love you, isabelle, and please accept this offering of porn as tribute to u <3
> 
>  
> 
> a thank you goes out to youdidnotseeme for creating this amazing [art](http://youdidnotseeme.tumblr.com/post/159527560776/) and being so gosh DARN SUPPORTIVE! for a spot of humiliation go ahead and click [here](https://uk.pinterest.com/beespacecadet/wordsworth-revived/)

It feels like there will be frost in the morning, even though it’s June. Ren pulls the shutter over the door of the studio and latches it down. She throws the keys into her backpack before slinging it on her shoulder.

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Ren looks at Hux over the frames of her glasses. “Got an important office to sit in?”

Hux shrugs. “I’ll take half of the day off.”

“Wow,” Ren snorts. “I’m honoured.”

They walk several blocks away from the studio in silence. Hux resorts to trailing behind, uncertainly judging the distance, when Ren turns the corner sharply and meanders into a pizza joint.

Ren marches up to the counter, past the half sleeping figures of indecisive customers, and leans across the peeling barrier of ply wood, smirking at the flustered teenager behind the register.

Hux waits beside the door as Ren orders, watching her toy with attention. While the kid runs to get the order, Ren takes a napkin from a dispenser and wipes her lipstick off, looking into the monitor of a security camera. Her lips are flushed as she swipes her thumb across them – tilting her head to check for smears.

Hux stumbles when incoming customers knock her out of the way.

Paying, Ren wanders out of the place with garlic bread half way to her mouth and several pizza boxes under her arm. She doesn’t wait for Hux as she walks down the street toward a fenced parking lot.

There are no streetlights past the side walk. Ren finds her car by unlocking it with the remote key. The headlamps flash and Hux follows Ren through the lot.

It’s rhythmic and flippant, the way Ren gets into the car. Hux stands beside the passenger door, watching her. The engine hums and the lights flare, hitting the walls of the buildings boxing the lot. Ren throws her backpack onto the back seat and pizza boxes onto the dashboard.

Hux glances away, down the lit street. Her hands tense inside the pockets of her blazer.

“Get in.”

Hux looks down at Ren. She is sat with her hands fixed on the wheels, eyes staring dead on ahead at the brick wall.

“No, I—” Hux steps back.

“I’m not giving you an option.”

 

Ren drives while eating. It’s a little terrifying and Hux holds tightly onto the door handle. But she remembers that if Ren can make it behind the wheel while rage blind and on the wrong side of drunk, she will be fine.

The hippie commune condo that Ren shares with three other individuals (one half of the “Knights”) is shoved aside somewhere in the crowded suburbs. Hux has seen it briefly, but enough to know that it is a place of liberal expression with absolutely no personal boundaries. She wonders how Ren expects them to have a quiet moment to speak.

Or maybe that’s her tactic: the less time they spend alone, the less time Ren will have to endure Hux. But she did insist on Hux coming with her—

“Get out, idiot,” Ren says, killing the engine. She grabs the pizza boxes and the backpack before stepping out of the car.

Hux stares after her as Ren walks onto the grass in front of a four storey condo. She waits for her to make it over the first two steps before she follows.

There are no lights on in the top floor apartment and Ren doesn’t call out into the rooms as she opens the front door, flinging her keys in the general direction of a bowl.

The segmented apartment is crowded by shadows of cabinets and picture frames that swallow the white walls. There are wires on the floor and empty snack packets on the couches where Ren dumps her bag as she passes through the living room.

Hux closes the front door while Ren goes into the kitchen, kicking off her heeled boots without pausing (shedding several inches that do nothing to damage her height). The fridge light flicks on and Hux hears the shuffling of boxes and bottles. Finding a clear patch of carpet to stand on, Hux waits.

Something crashes on the floor, followed by a low mutter of “aw fuck”. Objects scrape on the lino and moments later Ren reappears, minus shades and jacket, plus a glass of clear liquid that she sips carefully.

“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” Ren says around the scratched glass rim.

Hux takes a deep breath and opens her mouth—

“No—Wait. Shut up.” Ren tips her head back and swallows most of the drink. She looks back down at Hux, breathing heavily. “Let me start. You—” She gestures with the dreg filled glass. “—Are an asshole.”

“I—”

“I mean, you were always and asshole.” Ren walks over to a desktop computer and pushes aside empty boxes and energy drink cans, pulling out from in between a tequila bottle. She pours. “What the fuck happened to you? Who stole your brain and sense of individuality when you entered the corporate industry? Or is this just a Hux family thing?”

Hux steps forward, tripping over wires on the floor, mouth open to speak.

“No, I’m gonna talk and _you will_ listen.” There is a flush rising on Ren’s cheeks – a steady creep of alcohol that will find her stumbling through angry words. “I respect your dedication. But you aren’t yourself.” She takes a sip of tequila and looks dead on ahead. “You aren’t Hux.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Hux begs, exasperated with loss.

“ _You aren’t Hux_.” Alcohol spills as Ren prods Hux with a finger, pushing her back. Ren looks like she will soon be wiping at her tears; her words are catching thick in her throat and her eyes are too bright in the low light. “You aren’t Hux and you aren’t the idiot I fell in love with.”

Hux stares at her. “What?” she asks.

“You aren’t the mad, evil motherfucker that used to do whatever the fuck she wanted,” Ren tells her, chin lifted high. “You aren’t the same idiot who trampled anyone who got in her way.”

“No, I meant—”

“Goodness sake—” Ren looks away, biting her cheek. “I’m in love with you,” she repeats. “I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Hux says nothing, just stares at Ren – at her petrified eyes.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” Ren spits. Her eyes are glassy and Hux can see the tears on her eyelashes. “ _Don’t tell me you never fucking knew_!”

Hux flinches when the glass meets a wall in the echo of Ren’s scream.

Ren turns away and the quarter full tequila bottle rolls across the floor. For a moment, it seems like Ren is composed; her head is held high and hands are steady on her hips. But then she folds her arms and wipes a hand across her face. There is a wet sound.

“Ren?”

“I—” Her voice breaks. Hux can see, against the light, Ren rubbing her face with her wrist.

“—Ren?”

She hunches and darts to the kitchen, but Hux follows Ren and catches her by the shoulders in the doorway.

“Ren, please—” Hux turns her. Ren’s face is an ugly mottled colour, all red and pink, running with tears and smeared black makeup. Hux takes her cheek into her hand and pushes the fat tear drops away from Ren’s eyes. “Darling, please. Please, it’s okay.” She brushes her hands through Ren’s sweat damp hair.

 _No, no, no_ , Ren’s lips ghost. “Stop,” she whispers and pushes from Hux who shushes her and just pulls her in closer.

“Ren, listen to me, please—” Hux wipes the blotchy scrunched up face, trying to get Ren’s tears out of the way. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not, I’m—”

“Shh, shhh.” Hux takes Ren’s face between her hands, smoothing the colour on her cheeks with her thumbs and, whispering “it’s okay”, kisses Ren on the lips.

There is a choked sound. Ren recoils. But she doesn’t lose the kiss. Her hands are on Hux – holding her by the shoulders. She is neither keeping or pushing Hux away, just standing there motionless like the room will collapse if she breathes.

Hux waits for Ren, patiently keeping the touch soft as she brushes her fingers across her face. She gives her another kiss, barely a touch, right on the corner of her lip. “It’s okay,” Hux says, taking a piece of Ren’s hair between her fingers and soothing it with her thumb.

When nothing happens, Hux leans away and watches Ren’s lips try to form some inaudible syllable. “What?” she asks.

But Ren only bites her lips and keeps silent.

Hux opens her mouth to speak again and its then that Ren moves forward, grabbing Hux by the back of her neck and kissing her. Ren assaults Hux with kiss after kiss without letting her make a sound. Ren takes Hux by the jaw and waist as she walks her backwards, cornering her.

“I waited fucking years to taste you,” Ren says, hushed, against Hux’s cheek as she kisses her from the temple and back to her lips. “I will hate you if you make me stop.”

“I don’t want to.” Hux kisses her back, licking away the taste of tequila from her teeth and tongue as she takes Ren’s tear damp face and pulls her forward by the ears. “Fucking idiot,” Hux whispers.

Ren bares her teeth. “Yeah? Who is the dense idiot?” she spits and doesn’t give Hux a chance to retort as she drops down and grabs Hux by her thighs, pulling her up as she stands.

Hux finds herself straddling the wide berth of Ren’s soft hips, held by the burning heat of wide spread palms on her ass as she clings. Hux smiles and puts her arms around Ren’s neck. Funny, how this is the same kid who once could’ve been knocked over by a summer breeze.

Ren swings Hux around, grinning drunkenly, and presses her up against a wall. Hux bites her tongue when her head knocks against solid plaster. She steadies herself on Ren who melts into her body.

“Won’t your hippie roomies complain?” Hux asks.

“I told them to abandon ship when I was getting the pizza,” Ren mutters, kissing Hux’s neck and sighing as she goes up toward her jaw. “What does it matter anyway, they walked in on me fucking plenty.”

Hux scrunches up her face. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, I’m the disgusting standing between your legs.”

“What?”

“Dunno. Drunk-ish,” Ren mumbles against Hux’s shirt collar.

“You sure th—”

“Ten fucking years.”

“Then I think I’ll need a drink too.”

Hux is hoisted up higher on Ren’s hips and carried through into the well-lit kitchen where she is sat down on a counter. She pulls off her blazer as Ren opens the fridge and takes out two cans of cherry cola. Rummaging further, Ren finds a cup of refrozen red slushie.

Hux watches Ren, still red in the face and a little unsteady, dump a good measure of vodka in two solo cups. She catches the stray droplets off the red plastic on her tongue and licks her lips. Soon follows the cherry cola and the melted red mess of the slushie before a cup is handed to Hux.

They link elbows and entwine their arms.

“To us?” Ren pronounces. She is struggling to stay standing, but her eyes are clear and bright.

“To us,” agrees Hux.

They tip their heads back and drink.

By the time her cup is empty, Hux is wincing and Ren is reaching around her for the glass bottle to dump the liquid straight into the cup without a care.

Taking a swallow of the vodka, Ren steps in between Hux’s legs and kisses her with alcohol stained lips. Hux drinks up the taste, pulling Ren forward by her hair.

“Don’t I owe you an apology?” Hux asks against Ren’s heavy breath.

“Huh?” Ren looks barely conscious, doped out on happiness. “No, you don’t—”

“I mean—” Hux reaches down and, pulling up Ren’s t-shirt, hooks her fingers in the waistband of Ren’s jeans.

Ren trips forward and stares up at Hux.

“Do you want me to apologise?” Hux grins down at her, watching those innocent eyes try to keep focus.

“Please—” Ren breathes, like it’s her final request. She is still the puppy that used to follow Hux around school, she just built a harder shell to hide the softness.

Hux jumps off the counter. Plastic cups roll on the lino as Ren is pushed out of the kitchen. They rush through the living room, barely making it a few paces before Hux is shoved up against the couch and kissed. She pries Ren off, urging her backwards toward the door of her room.

They don’t close the door or make it to the bed. Hux has Ren against the wall, hands under her t-shirt, fingers pressed into the warm, soft flesh over her ribs and thick waist. Ren’s breath is heavy as she follows Hux’s touches with her alcohol numbed fingers.

Together, they pull off Ren’s t-shirt and, in the dim light of the bedroom, Hux pushes aside Ren’s hair and kisses her neck, feeling the soft sighs rise in her throat. She bites and softly sucks at the freckles, hooking her thumbs in the straps of Ren’s bra and yanking them down.

Hux digs her nails into Ren’s back as she kisses her collarbone and follows the black lace of the bra, pulling it down before pressing her face into Ren’s chest. There is laughter as she sighs.

The thick width of Ren’s thigh pushes between Hux’s legs, allowing her to grind against her while she gently bites Ren’s chest. She scores her teeth on the soft skin of Ren’s breast before leaving a kiss.

“Please don’t tell me you are gonna make me come in my pants,” Ren whines in a small voice.

“Sounds more like a challenge,” laughs Hux as she cups Ren’s full breasts and pins Ren against the wall with her body.

“You evil piece of fu—UK—!” Ren moans as Hux slips down onto her knees and rips open Ren’s fly.

Hux watches Ren’s hips strain over her unzipped jeans, showing the first line of her black lace underwear. Leaning forward, Hux kisses Ren’s stomach and pries down her jeans, palming Ren’s ass as she goes.

Hux sometimes struggles to remember that the skinny kid from high school grew up to be this ridiculous and absurdly beautiful woman who loves her own body without shame. She tries to picture the bony legs as the denim stretches and dents Ren’s thighs.

Hux kisses the naked skin as hands wrestle with her hair tie, trying to grab a fist full of the ginger locks. With one foot free, the jeans are forgotten. Hux scratches Ren’s legs and grabs the back of her underwear, twisting it until Ren winces.

Hux feels the tie in her hair snap, letting the tangled pieces of her hair fall past her shoulders. A sharp yank to the roots has Hux urged closer by Ren. With a drunk grin, Hux follows the gesture and tugs the band of Ren’s underwear with her teeth. It snaps back and Hux presses her mouth against Ren’s groin.

“You know,” Ren slurs, “You aren’t getting your nasty fucking nails anywhere near me.”

Hux laughs and drags her tongue across the fabric. Unfortunately, her nails are chewed up from hours at a desk, running on coffee and desperation, and she knows well enough that her fingers aren’t going anywhere near to being inside Ren.

“I don’t need my hands,” she says, tugging down the elastic of Ren’s underwear over her hips. “Just my mouth.”

“Oh yeah?” Ren says as she lazily grinds back against Hux’s lips. “Prove it.”

Thumbs in the waistband, Hux drags Ren’s underwear down, stretching it over her thick supple legs and dropping it at her ankles. Once she steps free (one foot still bound), Hux drags one of Ren’s knees over her shoulder, pressing her fingers into thick muscle. She scores her ragged nails across the pale skin, trailing red marks as she kisses the inside of Ren’s thigh.

“C’mon, you goddamn son of a dick.” The leg on Hux’s shoulder bends and drags her for forward on her knees.

“Fuck off,” Hux mutters and digs her fingers further into Ren’s thigh, biting before spreading her hands over Ren’s ass and pulling her forward over Hux’s face.

There are incoherent, half-drunk moans – probably muffled by Ren’s clammy hands as Hux flattens her tongue and drags it between Ren’s labia. She feels the shudders of sighs come right down Ren’s spine and into her hips and thighs that twitch around Hux, holding her tight.

Hux drags her tongue over Ren’s cunt, softly lapping, feeling saliva drip from the corners of her mouth as she finds Ren’s clit and sucks.

“Oh— You fuckin’—!” Ren grinds back against rough surface of Hux’s tongue, pushing it against her clit.

Ren’s movements are drunkenly languid, led by the motions of Hux’s mouth as she teases Ren, pushing her tongue inside her cunt. Ren pitches forward, encouraging Hux with strained words as she feels those soft lips on her and that clever tongue inside her.

It seems odd, how their bodies fit together so well and yet, it’s only their first time like this. Hux knows that Ren is drunk on the same pleasure as her hands caress Hux’s neck, fingers running through her hair.

As promised, Hux doesn’t use her hands but to holds Ren’s thighs apart and scratch her ass. Hux’s breath is hot and pushes back stale into her lungs as she struggles to keep her thoughts clear. Ren’s thighs are gripping around Hux’s head, tightening and twitching with every stroke of her tongue.

They are both losing their minds and Hux is forgetting to breathe, determined to leave Ren dripping with spit and cum. She can hear Ren’s curses melt into moans as she sinks into drunk pleasure.

“C’mon, c’mon—!” Ren demands, using Hux’s mouth to find friction, chasing the touch of her tongue on her clit. “J’s’ a lil more—Ah, fu—ck!”

Hux feels the pulsing shocks against her lips, the first rush of warmth and the tension tightening like iron cords in Ren’s thighs. Hux keeps licking and kissing, gently sucking as Ren whimpers and falls lax above Hux, trembling with the dying shocks.

With heaving breaths raising her chest, Ren falls against the wall with both feet on the floor. Hux soothes her, stroking her thighs until Ren opens her eyes and looks down. Even in the darkness of the room, Hux can see the rose flush high on Ren’s cheeks and the dazed sheen of her eyes.

“Have I proven my point?” Hux licks her lips and taking handfuls of Ren’s hips, pinching the thickness.

There is a moment in which Ren says nothing and instead stares at Hux as she falls from the high of her orgasm. But then, she moves and Hux falls back onto the floor from the suddenness. Ren steps over her, dressed in nothing but her bra, and pulls Hux up until she is straddling Ren’s hips once more.

They kiss, sudden and rough. Hux is held by the arm looped under her ass while, with her free hand, Ren tries to unbutton her shirt. There are kisses on bare skin, wild and desperate to catch a taste. Hux is thrown on the bed, caught under Ren as her shoes and jeans are yanked off. She throws her shirt to follow suit.

Satisfied, Ren sits back and grins.

Hux lies there, panting on the bed beneath Ren. She knows that the sight is underwhelming; there is no fancy lace, no expensive silk, no beautiful curves. She is all pale and sharp, bones prominent and pulling at the black cotton sports bra and briefs.

Hux raises a leg and pushes at Ren who sways in a drooling daze. “Came here for a show?” She smirks.

Ren catches her by the ankle and digs her nails into the bone. Hux expects her to pull, to press— But not the soft kisses she leaves on the instep.

Ren falls between Hux’s open legs and kisses her on the bare throat, nipping her behind the ear and leaving spikes of pain. Hux hums and smiles as she guides Ren lower by the shoulders.

Soft kisses trail down over Hux’s chest and hands wander to undo the clip of her bra – depriving her of the clothing as they leave. Hux watches the mess of Ren’s unspooling black hair lie against her stomach as those deep eyes blink up at her.

They trace each other in the dark, following the lines of each other’s faces, and Ren gives a brief, nervous smile before she slips a kiss onto Hux’s thigh and begins to trace the path of her lithe muscles.

Hux finds it funny how, despite the number of people she has dragged into her bed, Ren is acting like it’s her first time on prom night. Like Hux hadn’t just held her against the wall and made her come with her mouth.

Hux reaches down and trails Ren’s jaw with her fingertips as she drags the waistband of Hux’s underwear over her skinny hips and the length of her freckled legs.

The air is a dark haze, filled with soft sounds as Ren’s fingers explore the sharp contours of Hux’s body. She kisses the tense inside of a thigh and leaves feather light touches toward her groin before leaning down and taking her first taste.

Hux bites on a moan and tries to press back against Ren’s mouth, but the wide strong hands that hold her thighs apart stop her, keeping her pinned to the mattress. Hux makes a sound of discontent, forcefully circling her hips to follow Ren’s tongue as it traces down from her clit in slow, lazy laps – like Ren is enjoying the taste on her tongue as she covers Hux’s cunt with her mouth and hums.

Restraint loosens over Hux as Ren allows one of her legs to drop to the mattress. A yelp is jolted out of her when she feels fingers press in beside Ren’s mouth, pushing up toward her clit and massaging gently. Wet with spit and precum, Ren’s fingers slip easily inside Hux’s cunt.

Hux bites her lip over a moan, grinning, as she feels Ren curl her fingers inside as she pulls back, working Hux from within. She keeps a low pace, motioning back and forth while she licks and sucks Hux’s clit.

It’s hard not to simply give into chasing pleasure, with Ren’s mouth being so soft and warm over Hux’s cunt, working diligently. But Hux reigns herself back, wanting to make it last, until Ren drags her fingers back and, in the place of two, pushes three inside Hux.

Ren presses them up, chasing the sharp tremors out of Hux as she arches on the bed and grinds her hips down against Ren’s hand. Ren watches her, smirking, and pushes the heel of her palm up against Hux’s clit, replacing her tongue, and massages as frantic sounds fall from Hux.

Climbing up between Hux’s legs, Ren catches her in a sloppy, wet kiss as Hux rides the rough callouses of her hand and her heels slip on the sheets of the unmade bed. Cresting on the edge of pleasure, Hux grabs for Ren and gasps against her neck, holding her until her body melts like honey.

After, Hux sinks onto the mattress and whimpers when she drags Ren down on top of her, clumping her dark hair in fists.

They lie together like that, holding onto each other and breathing through the thunder in their ears.

Coherent thoughts struggle into Hux’s mind as she finds Ren kissing her cheeks, stroking back her hair as she waits.

“Y’r bed ‘s so unc’mfort’ble,” Hux mutters into Ren’s neck.

Slowly, they tip on the mattress and the springs pop. Hux squirms, spitting Ren’s hair out of her mouth as she gets comfortable on top of her, kept close by the warm arms around her waist.

Hux dozes, lulled in by the rhythm of the pacing fingers on her back and the soft breath in her ear, before she hears: “Wanna eat the rest of the pizza and watch ‘Fantastic Planet’?”

Hux grins and curls closer around Ren. “Our first date then?”

“Nah. Our first date was under the bleachers before you left school.” Ren kisses Hux’s neck, laughing. “You made me drink swamp juice, you evil fuck.”

 

 

 

 

They heard the bell ring, calling the teachers to finish the final class. Ren and Hux looked at the campus building, the red and white walls with narrow windows.

“I should go,” said Ren. “I’ll miss the bus.”

“No.” Hux stubbed out her last cigarette. “I’ll drop you off. I’ll get you back twice as fast.”

“Aren’t you drunk?”

“I’m already sober.”

Ren thought about her getting into Hux’s car, in front of the people piling out of the school, rushing to get home. “Yeah,” she said. “Alright.” She considered what her parents would think if they saw her like that. “Our final day, right?”

“That’s right.” Hux stood, kicking aside the plastic packets on the grass. “Got a couple more exams to write up and I’m out.” She stretched, arms overhead, her tight white t-shirt riding up and showing skin between the cotton and leather of her skirt. “Out of this fucking cesspool.”

“Then college?” The grass blades unstuck from Ren’s bare legs as she moved.

“Yeah,” Hux laughed. She unfolded her sunglasses with the flick of a wrist. “Yeah. You just watch me. I’ll be sending rockets into space before you are even out of your diapers.” Her bloodshot eyes winked from sight.

Ren squinted through the light. She could hear the door opening, the footsteps and voices. “Will you miss anyone?”

Hux looked away, across the to the school field. Her hair shone gold and red, skin pale like ivory. “No,” she replied. “I don’t think so.” Hux picked up her bag off the grass, black leather and missing metal stud spikes. “Come on,” she said, “don’t want your parents angry, right?”

Ren stood, feeling the numbness ring through her legs. Her backpack slid off her shoulder as she followed Hux from under the bleachers, leaving traces of their evening behind on the grass.

Ren watched Hux’s feet flick aside the grass, the black scratched boots and red fishnets like the perfect uniform. The leather skirt swung on her skinny hips as she walked, staring straight ahead like a soldier first in line.

Ren sped up her steps, trying to match the soldier’s strider as they cut through the crowds spilling through the school doors. Maybe Hux will go to prom, Ren thought, and spend the final night before leaving to change the world. Maybe she’ll ask Ren to go with her.

Ren walked quicker, not to be left behind.

 

 

 

 

“Ren? You want breakfast?”

Hux huffs into the cool air above the covers. It’s a moment longer before she opens her eyes.

“Dude? Ren? You alive?”

Hux turns and her chest meets Ren’s back. She slips her legs between Ren’s. “I think Jemal is calling you,” she mumbles.

The door opens and the floorboards grumble under Jemal’s feet as he walks into the bedroom. He stops mid step. “Oh, it’s her,” he says as Hux eyes him.

The mattress dips and the covers shift. Ren falls onto her back, mushing her body against Hux’s, and pillows her head on her arms, looking lazy – pleased. She wiggles her fingers at Jemal and asks, “What you making?”

“Fried eggs,” he replies, stepping back out of the door, staring down at Hux in his slow retreat. “You can have some, if you want. But _she_ can have the cornflakes.”

“Aren’t they stale?”

“Yeah, just like her personality.” Jemal closes the door and his footsteps become lost in the condo.

Ren smiles. “I’m pretty sure he meant that.”

Hux feels a hand playing in her hair, picking strand after strand before dropping them back on the pillow. Hux had woken up at six to check her emails and send a notice to Phasma to cover her until afternoon (she’ll come in for the late shift). Afterwards, Hux got back in bed beside Ren and they slept in the warm summer sun till mid-morning.

Hux adjusts herself against Ren and feels an arm on her shoulder, fingers drawing ceaseless circles over her skin like a pulsar.

They get up slowly, dressing wordlessly, staying close as they struggle to keep their eyes open. A shower seems like too much effort for either of them, so they come stumbling through the condo in what clothes they could find: Ren in a leopard print dressing gown and Hux in a t-shirt and old pyjama pants that drag on her heels.

The kitchen is already emptying by the time they arrive; Olivia is dumping a carton of sour milk into the sink before grabbing her bag off the counter and cheering “see y’later” to Ren. They are alone again.

On the stove, there is a pan with a sticky note thumbed to the glass lid: “No soulless gingers.”

Hux eats the eggs out of the pan while Ren makes a vaguely pink, thick smoothie. She gulps it down from the jug, licking the frothy moustache from her lip before stealing a bite of fried egg off Hux’s fork.

They have the last of the cooling coffee from the pot and dump the dishes into the sink. Sluggishly, they trail back out into the living room.

Hux is watching Ren from the couch poke through unopened mail that has been collecting on a crowded coffee table when she asks, “I don’t suppose any of you hippies have clippers.”

Ren looks at her. Hux can see her thoughts turning, even as she keeps a straight face. “Sure,” Ren says.

There is no one to say “no” as Ren walks into James’ room and finds in the filth of his desk a pair of clippers with multiple guards.

Handing them over, Ren sneaks a look at Hux and asks, “You gonna need any help?”

“No,” Hux tells her. “You’ll probably hear me screaming if I do.”

In the mirrored bathroom cabinet, Hux finds a pair of scissors blotched by rust. They seem sharp enough. She plugs the clippers into the socket outside the door and sets them down on the closed toilet.

Hux tugs her t-shirt off over her head, groaning from the pull in her muscles, and drops it on the floor. She frowns at the reflection of her outgrown lank red hair, ratty past her shoulders.

The scissors are the easiest; Hux cuts and cuts, watching the askew chunks reveal her neck, her ears and the sun starved nape of her neck. She misjudges serval times and cuts too short or lopsided, leaving the mess looking like a child’s attempt with safety scissors.

The clippers buzz. Hux finds a small magnifying mirror stashed on top of the cabinet and uses it to watch the back of her head as she takes the clippers with the largest guards to her hair.

It feels like relearning to write, a slow stumble through misjudging direction. But Hux manages.

The clippers lie quiet in Hux’s palm, the small mirror hangs off her fingers. She looks down at the trails of red fuzz on the floor, sticking to her toes as she shifts.

“Babe—? I know you said you don’t need help, but I was wondering—”

The door opens before Hux can tell Ren to stop or press against it to keep it closed. Ren stands there in her fucking bathrobe, her curious face still smudged with yesterday’s makeup. She stares at Hux, keeping a hand on the door. She steps forward.

“C’mere.” Ren takes the clippers from Hux’s hand and dusts the hairs off her bare shoulders and back.

A comb is found from somewhere and the buzz of the clippers fills the sun flushed bathroom. Hux keeps her eyes closed while the cold blades pass against her scalp. The scissors whisper around her ears, tracing the arches to her nape.

The comb breezes, Hux’s breath hitches when she feels the tug end too quickly. Ren’s fingers follow the combed paths, bringing chaos to the order she just created.

Hux is turned toward the mirror. She opens her eyes.

There is not much difference, really. Maybe there is something a little less dainty, less constricted and defined. Pleasantly vague, even.

Hux brushes her hands through the roots of her hair and watches her fringe slip back over her eyes. There is hardly enough hair to cover her fingers as she combs the sides.

A feeling climbs Hux’s spine, like she is back in her childhood home, taking scissors to her hair at three in the morning, watching the inches fall away from her shoulders. The first cut of freedom.

Ren’s hand slips up Hux’s back to the arch between her shoulders, soothing the sharp ridge of her spine. A smiling kiss is pressed to Hux’s temple.

“Looking good there, gingerbread,” Ren tells her.

Hux watches them in the reflection. Together. Unapologetic. She follows the kisses Ren leaves on her shoulder, and wonders how beautiful Ren is with her tangled hair in the morning light.

 

 

 

 


	3. Gallimaufry (Bonus Chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just one big pile of silly bullshit because i wanted to write more of these idiots being happy. it's not a lot and definitely not as much as i would like but i hope everyone enjoys this chapter

It’s August, and yet pumpkin flavoured products are already stocked by supermarkets in almost every department (even condoms. Who knew). Hux stares back at the pumpkin icing decorated cookies that grin at her from the middle shelf. She reaches around them and takes a box of chocolate muffins. She shoves it under her arm.

Walking on down the aisle, Hux rattles a tub of gum. Despite earning her honourable badge of Adulthood, Hux is not at good at this. She can stand in the pasta section for a good ten minutes and stare the names printed on the packets until they all blend into one blur of monotony and then walk out, choosing nothing.

Some things do come easy: Cereal? Store brand cornflakes; Coffee? The one with caffeine.

Hux could have opted to buy things on the go when she needs them. But after she arrived from her two-week business trip in Belgium she walked in on Ren discovering that Hux’s fridge is about as empty as the north pole.

That lead to Ren announcing a Grocery Trip Adventure (slash, Quest).

Hux continues to walk, eyes glazed as she stares at the bright branded boxes of fuck knows what, rattling a four-beat tune on the gum tub. She is wearing her pyjama top under a washed-out baby blue hoodie, shorts that have fit her since she was twenty and stomped in loafers.

Somewhere at the forefront of her mind Hux wishes she was still in Belgium, standing on the balcony of her hotel room that hung over a lazy river. In the back of her mind, she is registering the sound of squeaky wheels approaching her from a neighbouring aisle as she walks toward the back of the store.

Hux leaves the smell of pastry behind as garble comes over the intercom. She walks out of the aisle and turns as a shopping cart is pushed out from the parallel department. Hux turns and meets eyes with Ren.

Somehow, under the white store lights that wash out everything into an unhealthy grey, the tattoos on Ren’s skin are even brighter. Some are bleeding blue, others fresh and clear. Hux watches the ink move on Ren’s shoulders as the thick muscle tenses, exposed by the cropped halter top she is wearing. The artwork of Ren’s legs is hidden under black harem pants, except for the red eyed animals that are looking from between the bands of her sandals, mimicking the ones on her fists.

Hux stares with glazed eyes as the mouth of a scowling black wolf jumps and wriggles over the shifting knuckles. The open-mouthed grimace mirrors Ren’s lips as her arms coil before swinging the heavily loaded shopping cart and releasing it in Hux’s direction.

Thoughts clock back inside Hux’s head as she stumbles out of the way of the cart that rattles on uneven wheels and spins under the weight of beer cases.

“Jesus Christ!” Hux catches the cart before it slams into a wall of cling film wrapped meat. It drags her along a little across the floor. She turns to Ren and gestures with the box of chocolate muffins. “The hell was that for?”

Ren flips her a half-hearted middle finger and walks over to snatch back the cart. Without makeup pasting Ren’s face, up close, the purple acne scars are visible on her cheeks. The smell of yesterday’s drinks lingers in Ren’s hair that is held up by a tie resembling a curled telephone cord.

Ren’s sandals squeaked on the lino as she forces the cart to turn the corner. She wheels it down the aisle without looking at the shelves, resting her elbows on the handle as she goes.

Running up beside Ren, Hux dumps the gum and muffins into the shopping cart. “Babe,” Hux says, keeping her voice low like there is someone to hear them in a store at midnight. “You know you can always sell the ticket. Right?”

Ren’s face scrunches up, twisting her lips. “It’s not about the _money_!” Ren spits as she keeps marching. “I _told you_ it’s not about the money.”

“Then why are you still angry?”

Ren stops. They have reached the end of the aisle. She turns to Hux. “Because you promised to go to the festival with me months ago. Going to the Burning Man was meant to be a ‘us’ thing. You _promised_ to do it for me.”

“ _Us_ thing? But all your friends are going.”

Ren pouts. Her lips are shiny from chapstick. “Yes,” she says. “But it was meant to be our adventure.”

Hux laughs. “What? In a desert? With strange people living in tents like some hippie commune?”

Ren glares and pushes the cart down the central aisle. “Yeah, strange people just like me,” she mutters. “I’m sure that’s difficult to believe.”

“But Ren,” Hux persists, trying to keep her hair from her eyes as she chases after Ren; the outgrowing length has outstayed its welcome. “What would we do in a desert, without showers and probably having a sunstroke, or food poisoning!”

“Yeah, what would we _possibly_ do in a desert!”

Hux trails after Ren down the frozen foods aisle, not commenting on what she picks up.

There are three checkouts open, each occupied by a string of dazed customers and bored cashiers. Hux silently helped Ren to unload the groceries onto the conveyor belt, noting the things Ren had picked out for herself: a food processor (someone had the wonderful idea to blitz a bathbomb in the previous and nobody is willing to test the non-toxicity claim), four packs of gummy bears, two jumbo bottles of sunscreen and a new pack of black hair ties. (The beer cases and jumbo toaster are for Hux, apparently.)

While the previous customer pays with a bag of quarters, Ren waits with her arms crossed and Hux rocks on her heels to the music that plays through the store. Either tastes in tacky pop haven’t changed or the radio station is running out of things to cycle through because Hux remembers singing to the same songs in high school when she still didn’t have a sense of dignity.

Shuffling over to Ren, Hux nudges her as she mouths the lyrics, “I kissed a girl and I liked it, the taste of her cherry chapstick—”

Ren wobbles from the nudge but doesn’t budge. Her expression tightens.

Hux shuffles into Ren’s space, elbowing her again. “Come on. Are you not going to buy the store out of cherry flavoured chapsticks?”

Burgundy spots are appearing on Ren’s tanned cheeks. “Fuck off,” she mumbles.

Hux smirks and leans her chin on Ren’s shoulder. “I bet your _lips_ tasted so sweet.”

It’s pretty how Ren’s lips turn red when she blushes, like she has been biting at them. “Shut up. I’m not sixteen anymore. I thought you just really liked chapstick.”

“Yeah, sure.” Hux feels like a giggling teenager, teasing Ren with the song while they sat outside their school on the summer warmed grass. “I _do_ really like the taste of cherry chapstick. You know that.”

Ren raises a hand and rubs her lips with knuckles, trying to hide a peeking smirk, and pushes past Hux with a mumble of “shut up.”

They load the packed groceries back into the cart together while Hux continues to hum to the songs that come through the store speakers. Ren keeps her eyes fixed on the floor as they leave into the parking lot. The night air is tacky with summer humidity.

Once the grocery bags have been dropped into the boot of Hux’s car, she nudges Ren again. A streetlight stutters and Ren glances down at Hux. Her face is barely visible under the muddy city night sky.

“I’m sorry I can't come with you,” says Hux. “Okay?”

“Sure.” Ren closes the boot and steps around Hux. “Work again, right? Important stuff. Where to next? Italy?”

“It’s not—”

Ren rips the passenger door open. “Can we just go _now_?” she spits over her shoulder, getting into the car before Hux answers.

“Sure,” Hux whispers.

Maybe Hux never saw her parents interact like a normal nuclear family, but she knows enough that a car ride in graveyard silence is a sign of an argument. Ren doesn’t even reach for the radio to find the 90s pop hits.

They unload the bags from the car in the underground garage and take a silent elevator ride to the top floor of Hux's apartment building. Ren has the majority of the grocery plastic bags in one hand, a beer case under one arm and the new jumbo toaster under the other. She is staring ahead at the closed elevator doors, keeping her face in a slack frown.

“Hey.”

Ren’s glare shifts toward Hux.

“We can make more of your stupid cocktails tonight,” offers Hux.

Ren shrugs and sinks deeper against the mirrored wall. “Not in the mood.”

The elevator doors open.

“Ren— Come on.”

“It’s fine!”

Hux has to chase after Ren into the corridor to keep up; ever since Ren outgrew Hux she has struggled to match the width of her powerful strides.

“Then why are you acting like you’re not fine!” Hux skids to a stop beside her apartments door as Ren’s flipflops stomp down. “Does the festival really mean so—”

“Open the door, Hux,” Ren grits out.

Hux pauses and her face drops into a frown. “Oh. It does—?”

“Hux!” barks Ren. “Open the fucking door!”

The lock clicks under Hux’s key and the door is flung open by Ren’s foot. She marches through and dumps the bags down on the cold stove. The toaster is flung down onto a counter and the box slides aside, thumping against the tiled wall before it's followed by the beer case.

Ren curses as she kicks her flipflops off across the kitchen. Then, she picks them up and throws them again, sending each sandal with a thwack into a wall.

Curses lose sense when Ren’s bare toes break against the cabinet doors tucked under the counters. She kicks and the hinges rattle until they sound like they will come undone as her toes break.

Arms lock over Ren’s torso from behind and she falls slack on the counter. Hux goes with her, holding Ren from the sharp granite edge.

“Ren,” Hux mumbles, pressing her cheek against Ren’s shoulder. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

There is a groan against the counter.

Hux holds Ren for a little while longer in silence, stroking her sides and thumbing the hem of her top.

“Could we make a deal?” she asks after a while, once Ren’s breathing seems to have settle.

“What deal?” comes the grunt.

“I will go to the festival with you if—”

Ren bucks under Hux, but says nothing.

“—If you promise to go somewhere with me in turn—”

“O-oh no-o…” Ren flattens on the counter and shakes her head. “I know what this means—”

“Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel about the hippie gathering.” Hux laughs against Ren’s neck and pulls her up, turning her around.

Ren’s frazzled hair is hanging lopsided from the tie and her face is in a permanent red blotchy state while her eyes are glassy, but puppy-soft.

Hux wipes Ren’s runny nose which makes her sniffle and look aside.

“I’ll come with you to the desert and get food poisoning, if you come with me next year to the world science festival and sit through at least one lecture.” Hux takes Ren’s hands and walks up against her. “Deal?”

Ren pouts and keeps her lips tightly closed.

Hux steps up on her toes, levelling herself with Ren. “Deal?” she repeats.

Ren gives a jerky nod and Hux smiles and takes Ren’s cheeks between her hands to bring her into a kiss. Her lips are still puffy and cracked from yelling, but she is starting to smile.

Hux leans away and asks, “Happy?”

Ren has her eyes closed as she tries to keep back a grin. She nods again.

“Good.” Then, Hux brings her hands back to Ren’s bare sides and taps them.

A weird sniggering sound comes out of Ren’s mouth as she flinches from under Hux’s hands, and then again when she feels the wriggling sensation on her sides.

“No—! No!” Ren drops down to duck out of Hux’s arms, but she is grabbed by the middle. “Stop, you fuck!”

“No!” Hux laughs as she drags Ren back.

They struggle, and both slip on the kitchen floors. Ren ends up on her knees as she scrambles to get away from Hux who falls on top of her, still laughing as she tries to keep her hands on Ren’s bare sides.

Slipping and tripping through the apartment, falling into sharp edges of scattered furniture, they collapse onto the bunched fur rug in front of the settee. Ren keeps laughing and kicking at Hux who grabs her ankles and pushes them aside to get at her again. Hux drops onto Ren, punching the air out of her and they squabble like kids in a playpen.

Somehow, Hux ends up sitting across Ren’s waist, holding down her arms while she gets kneed in the back by Ren’s flailing legs. They are both flushed red and Hux is panting from the laughter that is catching on her lips. It only makes Ren fight harder.

“Come on, let me see your smile,” Hux says, triumphantly getting comfortable on her seat, rocking her ass from side to side on Ren’s torso, making it known that she has won no matter how hard Ren fights her.

Giving another bout of defiance, Ren tries to buck up against Hux and rip free her arms. But Hux presses her wrists down to the floor, squeezing fingers on the tendons until Ren drops limp on the rug again.

“Fuck you,” Ren wheezes, but then grins and startles herself with a giggle.

“There is my sweet girl,” Hux coos as she leans down and eases a kiss on Ren’s lips.

“I’m not sweet,” Ren manages.

“Oh, you are.” Hux catches Ren’s pretty bottom lip between her teeth and pulls, before kissing her again and smiling at Ren’s eager response. “You are so sweet. Like sugar—Or cherry chapstick.”

Ren looks from under Hux incredulously. “Is that really all you can think about?”

Hux smiles, barely hearing what Ren is saying because she is so lost to how happy she is to be allowed to kiss those sweet lips. “Shut up,” Hux mumbles as she takes Ren’s chin between her fingers and tilts her to keep the kiss going.

Ren almost goes along with it until she gets distracted by a thought.

“Wait, wait—” Ren says, dragging her lips away from Hux’s. “Wait a moment.” She holds back Hux by her shoulders.

“What is it?” Hux doesn’t want anything less than to drag Ren to bed (or the settee) and make her smile again and again while she keeps her head between Ren’s thighs. It takes Hux all her moral decency not to groan.

Ren stares to the side for a moment in silence.

“Ren—?”

“I forgot the cheez-its.”

Hux briefly considers getting up and leaving Ren on the floor.

“You absolute bitch.” Ren turns and stares up at Hux. “You made me so angry I forgot the fucking cheez-its!”

Hux closes her eyes and swallows. “I will get you some tomorrow—”

“If this happens at the festival—!” Ren gestures like she is grappling for the most violent, crude and threatening phrase. “I will fucking divorce you!”

“We’ll have to get married first, won’t we?”

Hux gets up off Ren, using her shoulders and chest for purchase. Standing over her, Hux grabs Ren’s hands and pulls.

“You made me,” Ren rants as she is dragged up to her feet, “forget fucking cheez-its with your fucking tight-ass bullshit! Un-bel-ievable!”

“Shut up, honey.” Hux spins Ren around toward the bed under the floor to ceiling windows.

While Ren rants and curses, Hux shoves her hands down the back of Ren’s harem pants to grab her ass and push. Ren hardly even notices as she keeps talking, spiralling off about not plugging out the electrics when going away and many other mindless faults Hux is not aware of.

“No!” snaps Ren as she turns around, yanking the hands out of her waistband. She points at Hux. “I think I’m allowed revenge.”

Hux frowns. “I apologised!” Her next words are muffled when her hoodie and t-shirt are yanked up and off over her head, leaving her naked except for her shorts.

“Ren!” Hux shouts, staggering back, but Ren ducks down and tattooed muscular arms grab Hux around her waist as she is hoisted onto Ren’s shoulder. “You fuckin’ bitch—!” Hux’s head slams against Ren’s back and she bites her tongue.

“In the name of the cheez-its,” Ren says as she walks toward the bed with a thrashing Hux on her shoulder, “and wasting my time by making me worried—” Ren stops at the foot of the bed. “—I defeat you!”

Hux is flipped down onto the mattress with screeches. She bounces one, twice, before Ren is on top of her. She kisses the scowl off Hux’s face, lapping it up until she is laughing.

“You’re like—” Hux snorts as bites land on her lips and jaw. “—Like a goddamn dog—Shit!” Hux tries to shove Ren aside when she blows a raspberry against her neck.

Choking on her laughter, Hux kicks as Ren giggles against her naked chest and blows another raspberry. The tousle ends when Hux punches Ren on the shoulder and flops over onto the over side of the mattress.

Propping herself up on an elbow, Ren watches Hux try to gain back her breathing. She is all red on her chest, neck, and cheeks, like when she used to get sunburned from falling asleep on the patio of her parents’ house.

Leaning over, Ren puts a hand on Hux’s stuttering chest and kisses her softly.

Hux’s laughter hitches when she hears, “So… When are we going to get married?”

 

 

 

 


End file.
